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she tells me she loves my love handles; gripping my hips while we walk through the grocery store, wrapping her arms around my thick belly. but she,
she's made mostly of air, like swiss cheese, except the parts of her that do exist are hard, and sharp, all angles, and i,
i used to find so much beauty in her bones, in the gentle curve of her cheek, the pocket of her collarbone. i imagined filling it with soup, or cereal, the taste of her skin mixed with my Chex and milk.

25 Apr 08

Rated 10 (9) by 1 users.
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Like it. Seems like there should be more.
 — themolly

strangely different.
 — raskolniikov

I can't even explain how much I enjoy this.  It's cute.  >:3
 — Aziel

thanks guys. themolly- it was part of a longer poem, good call. the other version was shitty and longwinded and never ended up accomplishing what i needed it to so i trashed all but this. im not sure if it can stand alone, though.
 — unknown

I'm just realizing that I love every one of your poems thus far.  

This stands well alone, but you could easily make continuations of similar accounts, to continue the same story.  No need to bunch it all together. ;D
 — Aziel

thanks, az. that means a lot coming from you  :]  
and thats a super tip. like holy shit, haha. that idea never wouldve occured to me. thanks, haha
 — wemsntdspair

I love this!  Missed it until now.  This is how I feel about men, I like them with some meat but I like to be mostly bones.  I am so appreciative of this little bit.
 — Isabelle5

thank you isa.
do you think it functions as a poem, though? recent speculations on my writing has me wanting to rework most everything i've written.
 — wemsntdspair

I can say with certainty, yes.  It's amazingly expressive and perfect the way it is.
 — Aziel

the poem digresses a bit with the whole cereal part. its an interesting poem, but that section is the weakest of them all. don't end with it.
 — joshcoops